Carrie Weaver - Secrets In Texas

“Senor,” the man warned.

“She’s my wife. I won’t leave her in the dirt.”

The man opened the trunk. “Remove the luggage.”

Matthew bit back a curse. He set their suitcases on the ground.

“Open them.”

Angel stepped forward. “But—”

The guard trained the rifle on her.

“It’s okay, Angelina. We’ve nothing to hide.” Matthew placed the cases one by one on their sides. He unzipped the flaps and peeled them back.

The man pawed through Matthew and Angel’s belongings.

One of the men handed the laptop case to the guard.

“We’ll hold on to this for you. And we’ll take your cell phones, too. There are landlines you can use.”

“I need my laptop to conduct business and check on my investments.”

The man shrugged. “Talk to Jonathon. Now hand over the cell phones.”

Matthew reluctantly complied, as did Angel.

Once the electronics were in his possession, the guard seemed to lose interest in searching further. He said something in Spanish to the other man, who closed the suitcases and set them in front of Matthew. His buddy tossed the car keys to him and he got into the rental car.

“Where are you taking our car?”

“To the garage, where we keep most of the vehicles.” The voice came from the shadows to Matthew’s left.

A tall older man with a commanding presence stepped into the light.

Matthew sucked in a breath. Dad.

But he knew it wasn’t his father. His father was dead. And more than likely this man had killed him.

“Uncle Jonathon, what a pleasure to see you.”

ANGEL KEPT HER EYES downcast, but surreptitiously surveyed Jonathon Stone. Though he was believed to be sixty-four, he was powerfully built and moved with athletic grace.

“This must be Angel.” He stepped closer, lifting her chin with his finger. There was a hint of steel beneath the softness of his tone. “What a lovely young woman. I can see why you wanted her, Matthew.”

Matthew pulled her close to his side. “I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. And when the vision came, I knew she was the one for me.”

“Vision?”

“An angel trumpeting the news of our betrothal. It was ordained by god. A match made in heaven.”

Angel sucked in a breath. Matthew’s piety gave her the creeps. As did his talk of visions.

But apparently it struck the right chord with Uncle Jonathon. He slowly nodded. “It would certainly seem so.”

“Angel has much to learn about being a good wife, but I’m confident she will learn quickly with other godly women to teach her.”

“Yes, fellowship with the women of our community will show her how to be a loyal, loving helpmate. If she truly desires to embrace our ways.”

Angel nodded stiffly.

He released her chin. “Good. I’ll take you to your quarters. Follow me.”

He turned, his loose-limbed stride long.

Matthew picked up their suitcases and followed.

She tried to survey her surroundings as she walked behind Matthew but only had time to commit the immediate arrangement to memory. They passed a group of three homes on the right side of the path. Farther on, they came to eight adobe structures surrounding a large courtyard. All had flat roofs and heavy wood doors. The windows were high, narrow rectangles, protected by wrought-iron bars.

There were no trees or shrubs, just hard-packed dirt. Still, dust rose in plumes from their feet. Angel felt coated with the stuff, grimy from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Jonathon took them to the largest of the homes, opening the door without knocking.

A tall woman who appeared to be in her late fifties came forward. A teenage girl of about sixteen followed.

“Matthew, I’m sure you remember your aunt Eleanor. You’ll be staying here with her. Ruth helps Eleanor with the children’s schooling. The children now live in dormitories and are educated in several of the larger homes during the day.”

Angel didn’t like the idea of dormitories. Why didn’t they live with their mothers? And she’d noticed he didn’t give the young woman a title. Where did she fit into the family? She had the sick feeling the young girl was another of Jonathon’s brides. The girl kept her eyes glued to the ground and didn’t utter a word.

Matthew nodded, his face impassive. “Thank you for inviting us to stay in your home, Aunt Eleanor.”

The woman’s lips thinned. Angel got the distinct impression it hadn’t been her idea. “Of course. You’re family.”

“This is my wife, Angel.” Matthew nudged her forward.

Angel was at a loss how to proceed. Should she curtsy? Shaking hands seemed too confident and contemporary. Raising her eyes, she nodded. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

The older woman made a noncommittal noise in her throat.

“Eleanor, see that Matthew and his wife are made comfortable.” Jonathon turned to Matthew. “I’ll meet with you tomorrow, son.”

“Yes, sir.”

And Jonathon was gone, exiting the front door, humming what sounded like “Onward Christian Soldiers.”

Angel repressed a shudder. His cheer seemed ominous.

Ruth raised luminous blue eyes. She looked like a china doll with pale, porcelain skin and wide, round eyes. “This is for you, Brother Matthew.” She held out a flat rectangular object to him.

Matthew frowned, accepting the gift. “It’s beautiful.”

“I made it. A marker for your Bible.”

“Yes, lovely stitchery. Thank you.”

Triumph flashed in the young woman’s eyes and was gone. “I’m glad you like it.” Her voice was low and sweet.

Angel felt for all the world as if she’d been one-upped in a competition she didn’t understand.

“I’ll show you to your room.” Eleanor bustled by them.

Matthew took Angel’s arm and they followed the woman down a short hallway and up a flight of stairs. There were several doors on either side. Eleanor opened the last door on the right.

“You have a private bathroom. If you need additional towels or blankets, please call me.”

Angel sucked in a breath as she entered the small, old-fashioned room. Her gaze was drawn to the double bed. She fingered the exquisite handmade wedding-ring quilt. “It’s beautiful.”

“Some of the women made it as a wedding gift for you and Matthew. Many of them were friends of Abigail’s.”

But Eleanor hadn’t contributed, that much was clear. There was a bitter edge to her voice when she mentioned Matthew’s mother. Angel wondered whether Eleanor had opposed Jonathon’s marriage to his brother’s wife.

It didn’t matter, Angel supposed, because even Jonathon’s first wife would have had very little say when he chose another bride. She was expected to suffer in silence.

“I imagine you two are tired from traveling and would like to settle into your room. I will lead the Bible reading tonight in Jonathon’s absence. However, it would be understandable if you would like to have your own reading in your room.”

Holy cow. How was she supposed to handle Bible readings when her memory of the book was so sketchy? She’d avoided religion of any kind since her marriage to Kent. Because she had a hard time believing in a God who’d left her to fend for herself.

“I’ll lead Angel in prayer and our reading tonight, Aunt Eleanor. Thank you.”

“Good night.”

Ruth stood in the hallway outside their door, her eyes bright with curiosity. Angel got the distinct impression she was gauging the marital temperature.

“Good night, Eleanor, Ruth.” Angel tucked her hand in Matt’s, smiling up at him. “My husband and I would like to be alone. We’re very…tired.” There, let the little Stepford wannabe process that.